Writing
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Poetry
Bottle up your pain In an old, glass jar. Let it sit there for a day ‘Til it’s black as tar. Fall down on the grass, Find a feather there. Take your bottle; feel the sun Shine down on your hair. Use the feather, trace Feelings in the dirt. It would be a shame to…
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Calluses
I am building calluses Around my heart. Nobody can come in To hear my song. She’s losing strength Because I exposed her To empty souls who Did not know, That she is a melody Few have heard, And she is timid. She will hide. I will not forsake her Or sing her to the dark,…
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Flowers
You were never going to see me Among all the other flowers, Watching idle as the strangers Daily passed me by. I am not unlike my sisters, Neither am I just like them; We are gathered as a body Staring at the sky. If you deign to come in closer And, for once, get on…
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Stars
Did you see the stars tonight? I could hear them cry Watching human promises, Every one a lie. The stars above, among themselves, Feel no need to compete. Each is glad for her own light, Sacred and complete. One by one they turn away, Collapsing in despair: Their grief consuming everything, Leaving their wrath fair.…
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In Grief
The day the grand piano was tuned, no one remained to play it. When the carpets were cleaned, not a soul walked the halls. The lonesome house was being scrubbed to make space for new life—but wasn’t ready to let go. One could feel in the air a note from a lullaby never finished; it…
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l’automne
Your bookshelves are empty. Outside, the leaves fall. We’re waiting through The saddest autumn of all. Your piano is sleeping— Too great for my hands. Still, I will play ‘Til my heart understands. I took home your paper To sketch out your face, But you have a smile That art can’t replace. The trees out…
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Owlhearted
I am owlhearted. I sing and then I rest On the highest shelf, on which I made a cozy nest. I am owlhearted. I slumber in the day. Fairies will come out at night, And that is when I play. I am owlhearted. You can’t deceive me, For it is not with my eyes, But…
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Ink & Gold
I couldn’t put in ink a thought To justify the gold unfurled, As sleep began to settle on My precious, quiet world. No nature lover could have asked For her to stay awake. Living things could never work Without a well-earned break. Yet falling leaves can sound like tears As flowers die and stir my…
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Interlude: Autumn
I breathe. The scent of Dampened earth Is rising from the ground. It mingles with the Pungent smoke, A neighbor’s fireplace. My garden’s fading; Falling leaves Create the only sound. I settle down; October air feels Cool against my face.
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Tuesday Morning’s Child
Snowy hills have piled; Whispering wind is heard. Only Tuesday morning’s child Makes out every word. Frosty window-glass, Snowy blankets grand. Which dark things have come to pass Upon this frigid land? Things the sun has seen, Things the moon will mourn, Until every soul has passed Away and been Reborn. How can human tongue,…
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Near Eden
Water cupped in my two hands Bears the rich taste of the land. Paths that loved me brought me here: Eden must be near. Maybe when I’ve breathed my last, When what I know of earth has passed, I will wander, light and free, Underneath this canopy. I drink. The water’s fresh and clean, And…
Mariella Hunt & the Tearoom 